


starburst

by rhymeswithpi



Series: limit break [17]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Headcanon, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Introspection, M/M, Touch Aversion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 01:30:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhymeswithpi/pseuds/rhymeswithpi
Summary: With Altissia on the horizon, Noct has a few things to say before they leave.





	

“You could've  _ died _ , Specs.”

Noct is doing everything in his power to not look him in the eyes. He deserves that. Deserves a lot worse, really, and he  _ knows _ it. But it’s fair, because right now he’d give anything to not have to look at Noct.

“Don't  _ do _ that to me. To us. I - we need you. In one piece.”

“I didn't -”

“Yeah, I know. You didn't think it was that bad. Gladio said you’d say that. Told me to say you're an idiot for him. I don't care what they taught you, Specs, you can't  _ do  _ this. Keeping your mind sharp is only useful if you stay  _ alive.  _ Say something next time, alright?”

He nods, staring at the blotch on the carpet for a long moment before Noct’s words dawn on him.

“Noct, how long have you known?”

“That you're a stubborn ass? Since the day we met.”

“No,” he says, tugging on the cuffs of his shirt. “About the… training.”

“I - well. I did some digging. Five years ago? Ish. Only really learned the very basics of it. One of the Crownsguard let it slip.”

He's never wanted the ground to swallow him more than he has in this moment. Maybe if he stares a little longer, he’ll bore a hole right through the floor and he’ll avoid this conversation today. Forever, ideally, even though that seems impossible now, has been impossible for  _ five years _ . Noct was never supposed to find out what the Crown had done to ensure his protection, that the reason he'd been forced into this distance was because the Crown had tortured a  _ child _ in the name of keeping him safe. Noct was never supposed to learn just what he’d been subjected to over the years.

“Iggy, what they - what my  _ father _ \- did to you was fucked up. Doesn’t change that we need you to  _ trust us  _ and say something. You’re always telling me to use my words, so try it yourself. Don’t pretend you didn’t know you were hurt. We’re your  _ friends _ . We’re not going to hurt you.”

His shoulders are starting to ache again as he nods, not nearly enough to actually waste a thought on. He takes a few slow breaths, clears the tension that’s built up from this whole  _ mess _ of a conversation. It’s easy enough to brush it aside, but Noct is giving him a  _ look _ , like he’s disappointed already.

“You had  _ a _ potion. Can’t convince me that was enough.”

He’d shrug, but that would probably make something flare up again.

“I assume you want to see for yourself that I’m  _ fine _ ,” he says, sighing. “Can’t just take my word for it?”

Noct shakes his head, sitting on the couch next to him. It’s awkward and strained, and he feels like he’s thirteen again, being told he  _ has _ to have cake on his birthday. He hates how tense this is, knows Noct must hate it, too, but it’s been ten  _ years _ of this, ten years of not touching and not talking about it.

“I can get someone else,” Noct says, breaking the silence. “If you don’t want me to see. Gladio might be a bit busy snogging Prom, though.”

He shakes his head as he unbuttons his shirt, lets it fall to the floor with a shaky breath. Noct's fingers are gentle as he probes around the bruises the potion didn't erase.

“You don’t flinch with me. Why?”

He shrugs, ignores the press of Noct’s fingers  _ right _ into the worst of the bruising. It’s a point he’s spent far too much time thinking about over the years, really, and one that’s never managed to make its way into something he can  _ say _ .

“Specs, don’t shut me out like this. Use your damn words.”

“It's not that simple,” he says. “It's not as simple as just  _ talking _ about it. It's… messy. At best. At worst it's denying my duty to the Crown, a vow I made to your father. To  _ you _ . And I'm not exactly one to talk about the things I've been through.”

“Doesn't really answer the question, Iggy.”

How much of this does he really want Noct to know? How much would  _ Noct _ actually want to know? There’s no clear starting point, no way to just  _ admit _ what has happened over the years he’s spent in service of the Crown. It’s all tied to  _ pain _ and things he finds it best to just not think about, things he  _ can’t _ think about, not if he wants to be able to get out of bed the next day and continue to fulfill his role. It’s never crossed his mind that one day he might have to explain this to anyone, much less Noct.

“You've never had cause to hurt me,” he whispers. “Of everyone I've known over the years, you've been a constant. You may be selfish and childish and occasionally an utter  _ moron _ , but you'd never cause any of us pain if you had a say in it. You'd rather die, and everyone knows it. They taught me to hide it, so you wouldn’t have to do that.”

“Bullshit.”

“ _ Language. _ ”

“Iggy. Don't act like this shit was your choice. They pretended to give you a say. You were what, twelve when they started? It was  _ fucked up, _ and they made it seem like the only option you had at the time.”

“What did you  _ expect _ me to do?” he snaps. “Tell them no, I was willing to be an easy target for anyone wanting to hurt my prince, my  _ friend _ ? You were still recovering from the marilith attack. I would've walked through fire if it meant sparing you that pain again.”

Noct's hand is shaking as it lays flat on his shoulder. He takes a deep breath, ignores the twinge in his side, prepares himself for whatever Noct is about to do.

“Can you just get out of your head for  _ five minutes _ and realise I don't want you dying to protect me? You mean too much to me for that.”

Noct’s fingers are digging into his shoulder, almost enough to hurt, probably enough to add to the mess of fading bruises on his back. A finger lifts his chin up, forces him to look Noct in the eyes for the first time since the zu, and Noct is leaning in.

It's barely anything that could be called a kiss, barely more than a brush of lips on his. He can't  _ breathe _ , but it's not paired with panic this time, no desperate need to run. Noct lets go of his shoulder, backs up until he's almost falling off the couch. The  _ absence _ of contact makes his skin burn, head spinning as it tries to keep up with what’s happening.

“Sorry,” Noct mumbles, standing up. “That was - how would you put it? Inappropriate? Not befitting my station? Not something I should've done, at any rate.”

He grabs Noct's hand before he has a chance to leave, finally manages to figure out how breathing works, grips so hard he can almost feel his knuckles turning white.

“Don't leave,” he spits out, gasping. “Please.”

Noct is just staring at their joined hands. He swears his heart has never pounded in his chest like this before, unprepared for something as simple and common as affection. The silence is  _ suffocating _ , stealing whatever breath he thinks he can draw as Noct stares at him, looks him over, and if he could just breathe  _ properly _ this would be easier, less terrifying. Noct’s lips quirk into that half-smile at last, expression softening as he sinks back onto the couch. The short distance between them feels like miles, but Noct’s hand is in his. He’s safe.  _ Noct _ is safe. At least, they’re as safe as they can be, with the entire Empire hunting for them.

It’s quiet, now, not even the sounds of someone puttering around in the kitchen downstairs. He’s still tired, has been since the day they fought the zu, but at least there’s enough air now, enough that he can maybe convince his body it’s not dying just yet.

“The others?”

“Gladio’s distracting Prom,” Noct says, squeezing his hand just slightly. “Might be the other way around. Not really clear on that.”

He hums a response as Noct shifts a bit closer to him, threads his fingers into Noct’s hair. It’s  _ strange _ , still, being allowed to touch him like this, something so intimate and familiar and definitely  _ not _ what he thought he’d be doing. _. _

Noct yawns widely, head drooping onto his shoulder. He presses his face into Noct’s hair, still painfully aware that this isn’t something he  _ should _ be doing, something that isn’t  _ allowed  _ or  _ proper _ , so far beyond something he’s ever permitted himself to do, and lets out a careful breath. He’s too tense, he knows, and there’s no chance Noct hasn’t noticed.

“Is this okay?”

It takes him a minute to process the question. No one else has ever bothered to  _ ask _ , find out if he was okay with the contact. Noct’s the only one in the last  _ decade _ who has spared a thought for his comfort. Noct’s already starting to doze off as he slips his hand out of his hair, tucks him close against his chest. This is okay. He’s okay. 

“More than,” he says. “But -”

“Stop  _ thinking _ so much, Specs. We can argue about it being appropriate tomorrow.”

“I was going to say you reek of lavender, but that’s fair,” he says.

“Oh. Right. Borrowed some shampoo from Iris. Wasn’t expecting something so… floral.”

His laugh is little more than a huff of breath. Maybe lavender isn’t so bad, really.

 

**Author's Note:**

> It only took us what, four months and a week to get these idiots together?  
> Pairs up with post 135 on [ignisapproved](https://ignisapproved.tumblr.com/).


End file.
